


Star-crossed Losers

by onesp1cyboi (fukmylyf)



Category: Marvel, Marvel Cinematic Universe, Percy Jackson and the Olympians & Related Fandoms - All Media Types, Percy Jackson and the Olympians - Rick Riordan
Genre: Fluff, M/M, Peter Parker Needs a Hug, Precious Peter Parker, Slow Burn, Tony Stark Has A Heart, except this is written well so, its crackfic times motherfuckers
Language: English
Status: In-Progress
Published: 2018-12-04
Updated: 2018-12-04
Packaged: 2019-09-07 04:32:28
Rating: Not Rated
Warnings: Graphic Depictions Of Violence, No Archive Warnings Apply
Chapters: 1
Words: 2,651
Publisher: archiveofourown.org
Story URL: https://archiveofourown.org/works/16847191
Author URL: https://archiveofourown.org/users/fukmylyf/pseuds/onesp1cyboi
Summary: Peter had to admit, water was not his element. He was way more comfortable on land, where he could breathe, or swinging through the sky, not… underwater. Which was where he was. Of course he would die like this. Arms stuck because of Paste-pot Pete, thrown into the East River, and unable to swim because he spent too much time stuck in his own head.“Holy shit, you’re Spider-man!”And now he was hallucinating pretty boys with sea green eyes who could talk underwater, apparently.





	Star-crossed Losers

**Author's Note:**

> this is just a dumb fun fic to ship my 2 fav new yorkers together.

Peter had to admit, water was _not_ his element. He was way more comfortable on land, where he could breathe, or swinging through the sky, not… underwater. Which was where he was. He should’ve probably started trying to kick his way to the surface instead of thinking about how much he hated swimming, but now he was thinking about how much of an idiot he was for thinking about hating swimming instead of swimming.

 

Oh boy. He was going to drown at this rate. The fact that his arms were pinned to his sides wasn’t helping his desperate attempts to kick his way to the surface and he was running out of air quickly.

 

Of course he would die like this. Arms stuck because of Paste-pot Pete, thrown into the East River, and unable to swim because he spent too much time stuck in his own head.

 

“Holy shit, you’re Spider-man!”

 

And now he was hallucinating pretty boys with sea green eyes who could talk underwater, apparently.

 

“What?” he tried to respond and immediately mentally kicked himself when the precious last bits of air he had floated up to the surface and his mouth was filled with river water. Goddamnit. At least the incredibly attractive guy he was pretty sure was real had some common sense, wrapping his tanned strong arms around Peter’s skinny waist and pulling them both to the surface. Peter swore it felt like the water had been pushing them up.

 

They broke the surface of the water and Peter immediately pushed back a little with his feet, paddling in the water. The guy who just saved his life looked a little disappointed. Peter winced.

 

“Uh. Thanks for saving me…” he said, awkwardly. He wasn’t used to being on this end of the deal. Normally people were thanking him for saving them. Although he didn’t really have the best responses for that, either.

 

The guy smiled. “Hey, of course, do you really think I’m gonna pass up the opportunity to save _Spider-man?_ You’re, like, my hero, dude.”

 

Peter was so glad he was wearing a mask. His face was bright red. This incredibly hot, incredibly buff guy, just said Peter was his hero. No, wait. Not Peter. Spider-man. Spider-man was a lot of people’s hero. This shouldn’t have felt any different.

 

“Y-yeah,” he said, realizing his arms were still stuck to his body and he couldn’t just web away from this incredibly awkward moment. At least it felt awkward for him. The guy who just saved his life (was his hair dry? How? They’d only just come out of the water- the river was still lapping at them as they paddled there, and yet it seemed like the larger waves had been avoiding them, and the current wasn’t as strong) looked completely comfortable and in his element. He exuded confidence. He looked like a real hero, which, considering his powers-

 

“Are you a mutant?” Peter asked. He immediately regretted it. “I- I mean, same hat, right, me too, hah, sorry that was so rude of me, I should just. You should’ve let me drown.”

 

The guy snorted. Oh no, Peter thought, even his laugh was cute. “No, no, I’m uh- Fuck it, you’re Spider-man, you’ve probably heard weirder. I’m a demigod.”

 

Oh, that explained why he was so hot. Part god. Made sense. He sincerely hoped he didn’t say that out loud. “Oh. Cool,” he said out loud, which was worse, somehow.

 

“Are your- are your arms stuck? I didn’t- I didn’t notice before, and oh man, you probably wanna get out of the water, I keep forgetting other people aren’t as comfortable in water as I am, sorry, I guess I’m a little… starstruck or something-” the guy was rambling as he swam a little closer, wrapping his arms around Pete- no, not Peter, a guy like this would _never_ be interested in Peter Parker- wrapping his arms around _Spider-man_ , swimming them towards the shore.

 

“It’s- it’s fine, I forgot too,” Peter responded, sparing a glance up at the Manhattan Bridge. The Fantastic 4 seemed to be dealing with Paste-pot Pete fine on their own, so at least that mess was handled. “Well. Getting covered in glue and wrecking my suit apparently wasn’t even worth it.”

 

The guy glanced up at the bridge. “You- You got taken out by Paste-pot Pete?”

 

“Please do not-”

 

“ _Paste-pot Pete?_ That’s not even one of your regular rogue's gallery, holy shit, and I thought he was like- A joke villain? Easier to take down? What happened?”

 

Peter was blushing aggressively. This was the worst.

 

“I don’t know! I got distracted.”

 

“Oooh. That’s relatable. Nah, I’ve done that too, no shade. I just always figured if I got the chance to meet you it would be… cooler.”

 

“Sorry to let you down. Unfortunately, that’s just how my life is.”

 

The guy let out another snort, dragging Peter onto land. He laid a hand on Peter’s shoulder, and suddenly he was completely dry.

 

“What the fuck?”

 

“Water powers. They’re pretty cool,” the guy said, grinning. He sat down on the wet sand next to Peter. “Do you- How are we gonna- The glue. What do we do about that?”

 

“It’s uh. UV sensitive, if you happen to have a blacklight on you,” Peter sighed, flexing his arms slightly to see if he could maybe break out. No luck. “Or I could tear the suit off, but I’d rather not.”

 

“Yeah… Uh. Where do we find a blacklight?” The guy hummed in thought.

 

“Hey, do you have a name?” Peter asked. “Because I’ve been calling you ‘the guy’ in my head a lot and- I don’t know. I realized I should’ve asked that a while ago, but I have shit-awful manners.”

 

The guy burst out laughing. “Ok, I’m sorry, I’m sorry, just- I keep- I forget you’re just like, a person, because like, you’re Spider-man, but- Yeah. My name’s Percy. Percy Jackson.”

 

“Ok. Cool. Hey Percy- Uh-” Pete pulled his stupid glued up arms again. It felt like they were actually stuck to his skin. Did the glue soak through the fabric? Knowing his luck it almost definitely did. “Fuck.”

 

“Can’t believe Spider-man swears,” Percy noted.

 

“Oh shit- You caught me,” Peter responded. “I’m a horrible no good awful teenager in spandex.”

 

“Maybe I should consider getting a spandex costume,” Percy hummed, helping Peter to his feet. “Although… Might be a little tacky on me.”

 

“I don’t know, man, you’d fill it out better than I do,” Peter responded. Holy shit. He said that out loud.

 

And Percy was _blushing_. “Um- th- thanks?”

 

“Y-yeah.”

 

They walked up the river bank in silence, exchanging no words until they got to a bus stop.

 

“So, blacklight?” Percy asked, breaking the silence.  

 

“I've got one back at my place, but that's- Queens is a while away.”

 

“I’m closer… and I might have one at my place?”

 

“Oh, yeah, sure.”

 

And the awkward silence resumed. For a bit.

“Taking public transportation in this suit is the worst,” Peter huffed softly. Percy chuckled.

 

“Yeah. You’re definitely turning me off the masked superhero lifestyle. Plus it would be tragic to cover up this pretty face.”

 

Peter snorted at that. “You can say that again. Little known fact, I wear this mask so no one can tell how ugly I am.”

 

“I doubt that,” Percy replied. “You being ugly, I mean.”

 

Peter wished he could use his hands, so he could bury his face in them. “Uh, wow, um, thanks,” he managed to stutter. “O-oh. Fuck. Bus.”

 

“You ok?”

 

“Surprisingly, there isn't a superhero discount. And I think, well, I'm sort of sticky, so my pass is sort of. Uh.”

 

Percy smiled, swinging an arm around Peter's- _Spider-man’s_ \- shoulders. “I got you covered, man. It's no big deal, I mean, considering everything you've done for me- for everyone. You're like New York’s greatest hero.”

 

Peter wasn't sure it was possible for him to go any redder.

 

“O-oh. Thanks,” he said. He really wished his hands weren't stuck. He wanted to be swinging home. Instead, he was embarrassing himself in front of a really, _really_ cute boy. Fuck.

 

Percy grinned, pulling the smaller boy tighter against his side. And that's where he kept him, more or less, for the entire duration of the ride, Peter tucked securely under his arm. Peter loosened up and relaxed into it. He wondered what people must've thought. The bus wasn't empty, but there was enough space for them both to be sitting. Then again, this was New York. Most people probably saw weirder on a regular basis. An enthusiastic Spider-man cosplayer and his chatty, pretty friend… that barely crossed the threshold of weird.

 

He wondered if people thought they were dating.

 

Percy had a nice voice to listen to, and before he knew it, he was being pulled gently to his feet and guided off the bus, towards a high rise apartment in a run-down part of Manhattan. Percy led him up the stairs, chatting away the entire time.

 

“So that's how I ended up- Wait. Ok.” He spun around to look at Peter, who quickly straightened up. “My family is probably home, and while I've brought home some pretty weird people… Are you… ok with that?”

 

Peter froze. Percy had a point; he hadn’t thought about it til now, but while hanging out with Percy was all well and good, going to his place could be… dangerous.

 

“Or you could sneak in through the window? I do that all the time, it’s no biggie.”

 

Peter realized Percy was waiting for an answer. He couldn’t read Peter’s face.

 

“Yeah, yeah, sure- Uh. Window’s probably better,” he replied. None of the usual alarm bells were ringing in his head, so he figured he was probably safe for now.

 

Percy led him to an alley beside the building and they ascended the fire escape. It was weird to just… climb stairs. Especially in costume. Peter was so used to just webbing himself up, or scaling the walls, that walking felt unnatural. Especially since he was sneaking into someone’s house.

 

“Here we go,” Percy said, shoving his window up and gesturing into a messy bedroom that wasn’t that different from Peter’s. “Sorry about the mess, would’ve picked up a little if I’d known _Spider-man_ was coming over.”

 

Peter snorted. “Your room looks better than mine, to be honest,” he said, stumbling a little as he climbed through the window, arms still awkwardly pinned and throwing off his balance. Percy darted through the window, catching Peter by the shoulder and helping him get his feet under him.

 

“You good?” he asked, hand still lingering on Peter’s shoulder. Spider-man’s shoulder. Peter needed to remember that there was a very firm line between him and Spider-man.

 

“Yeah- thanks, I’m good.” He smiled, realized Percy couldn’t see it, and blushed. Percy was really pretty up close, Peter realized.

 

“Ok! Blacklight,” Percy said a little too loudly, and the taller boy spun around to go rifling through his closet. Percy had a really nice butt, Peter noticed. Peter had also noticed all the Spider-man memorabilia scattered around Percy’s room. There were 3 different posters, a number of small cut-outs from newspapers- pictures Peter noticed he’d taken himself. He moved over to them just to make sure.

 

“Huh. I know the guy who took these,” Peter said over his shoulder. Percy rushed over, waving a hand in front of the wall.

 

“Oh man, I really- Oh man. I’m sorry you had to see that.” Percy was bright red. “I just- they were good pictures-”

 

It hit Peter that all these pictures- they were all of his best shots of his- of his ass. He snorted, then doubled over laughing. “Oh my god- you- you’re not the worst I’ve met, ok,” he choked out, once the laughs had died down a bit, and stood back up properly, swaying a little. He giggled a little at Percy’s mortified expression. “I’m glad you think I have a nice butt.”

 

Percy grinned a little awkwardly, still looking embarrassed. It was a little relieving for Peter; he wasn’t the only one completely flustered right now. At least that was going for him.

 

“Um. Blacklight?” he asked, shuffling a little awkwardly.

 

“Right! Right, ok, uh,” Percy spun around, getting back to digging through the bottom of his closet, before he yelled in triumph, holding up a small nondescript flashlight. “Knew I still had this!”

 

He rushed over to Peter, moving him to sit down on his bed. He kneeled down next to the masked boy, and Peter was reminded how much smaller he was than Percy. Percy, who was tall, Percy, with his toned muscles and his dark hair and vivid blue-green eyes, Percy, who looked every bit like a hero, like he’d been torn straight from the pages of a classic adventure. Meanwhile, Peter had barely hit 5’6, with boring brown eyes and messy brown hair, and no matter how strong he was, he was still so scrawny that strangers regularly asked him if he was eating enough.

 

Percy turned the blacklight on, running it over the seam between Peter’s right arm and torso. The glue reacted quickly, melting off and freeing him. He stretched out his arm as Percy moved to his other side to free his left arm.

 

“Oh man, that’s so much better. And I don’t need to scrap my suit,” he sighed, relieved, lifting his left arm above his head to stretch it out, too. Percy grinned.

 

“Glad I could help, Spidey.”

 

Peter so badly wanted to tell him to just call him Peter. He bit his tongue to stop himself.

 

Percy’s grin dropped a little, his expression morphing into an awkward sort of smile that didn’t quite reach his eyes. Peter’s heart ached. “So, uh, guess you’ll be going, huh? Gotta- gotta save New York and all that,” Percy said, standing up.

 

Peter shrugged a little awkwardly. “Uh, yeah, probably.” He huffed. He wasn’t going to let this end here. Percy was attractive, Peter was pathetically bi, and- Maybe. Maybe it would work out. “But, uh-” he started, standing up. “Give me your phone.”

 

Percy looked at him in confusion.

 

“So I can put my number in,” Peter said, shrugging.

 

“O-oh. Oh my gods. Yeah, sure.” Percy held a bashed up looking iPhone out to Peter, who could tell immediately that it had been taken apart and put back together. He could respect that. Somehow, though, he doubted Percy had done it himself. Peter put his number in, changing his name to _Spidey 🕷._

 

“Ok. There you go,” he said, holding out the phone. Boy. This sure did feel awkward. He really was terrible at flirting. “I’m, uh, gonna- head out? Gotta save New York, right?”

 

“Yeah,” Percy replied. They stood there in an awkward silence for a short while, both not wanting to move, but neither of them wanting to initiate anything either.

 

“Yeah,” Peter said, breaking the silence. “I gotta- yeah.” He moved towards the window, half-climbing out when Percy grabbed his arm. He pulled him down, kissed his cheek, and then let him go again.

 

“For luck, you know.” Percy was grinning again, a light pink dusting his cheeks. Peter’s face felt hot and he really wanted to pull his mask off to make sure he wasn’t going to die of heatstroke. Could you die of embarrassment induced heatstroke? Peter was sure he’d be the first to.

 

“Y-yeah. Thanks.” ‘ _Thanks.’_ God, he wanted to shoot himself in the foot for that one. He swung off, waving goodbye to Percy, who watched him vanish into the night.

 

Oh man. _Oh man_. Percy Jackson was way too cute to be real, and Peter was so, so whipped.

 

“Heya, Spidey. What the fuck happened to you?” a familiar voice asked, accompanied by a shot of fire darting past him. Johnny was never going to believe him.

 

 

**Author's Note:**

> comment if you'd like more! i have at least another 2 chapters planned, but if you wanna drop some suggestions about where this could go...
> 
> also, feel free to dm me on tumblr @ onesp1cyboi !!


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